


Parks and Wrecks

by Zymm



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Parks and Rec - Freeform, Parody, parks and recreation - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-04 14:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14595264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zymm/pseuds/Zymm
Summary: Steve Rogers takes his job as Pawnee’s Parks and Recreation Coordinator very, very seriously. It’s just such a shame that his whole crew is just a bunch of train wrecks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In light of Infinity War, I decided to do a silly Parks and Recreation AU of the Avengers and friends- see if you can guess who is who. And, of course, all characters are EXTREMELY OOC.

    “I’m just worried, y’know? I love each and every citizen of this town with all of my being but I also don’t trust any of them to not crumble pathetically under the pressure of this job. Does that make sense?”

    Steve Rogers was a full on mess, gulping down bites of his favorite waffles, courtesy of JJ’s Diner. Extra syrup slid down his fork and onto his fingers, but he was in such a frenzy that it hadn’t even registered yet. Clint Barton sat in front of him, lazily scrolling through his Facebook feed as he lounged in his chair, legs tipped back. He stopped momentarily to slide his sunglasses down his nose (yeah, they were indoors, but he was also an asshole), and eye his boss warily. He was only slightly judging the hell out of him.

    “She’s a good kid, Steve. Just, like, relax. Speaking of relaxing, I just saw the cutest video with this miniature donkey-“

    “Clint, put down your phone, this is serious.” Steve snapped. He waited a moment, and then dropped his fork, a horrified expression on his face. A syrupy hand reached out to his beloved coworker, who in turn swatted him away, disgusted. “Oh God, Clint, I’m so sorry, I’m just really stressed-“

    “You’re good, boy scout. I know you have a hard time embracing the finer things in life.” Clint said, waving off Steve’s slightly insulted expression with a wave of his hand.

    “I just hope she’d a good intern. And that she has an interest in possibly being a president someday, reinventing the American park system, and maybe offering up some ideas to solve the Ukraine crises.” Steve rambled. “Y’know, basic stuff. You were quizzed all about it when we hired you- I made sure Tony went over everything with you.”

    “Yeah….” Clint said unenthusiastically. In reality, his interview was Tony sitting across from him, reading over Steve’s questions silently before muttering ‘this is all bullshit’. They spent the rest of the meeting using the paper-shredder to destroy the questions- it was really therapeutic, if Clint was honest.

    “Anyways, I just gotta breathe y’know. Just, think about happy things in life, like Michelle Obama and democracy and community gardens. I know if you referenced this young lady, she must be amazing.”

   

    ————————

   

    “This is her?” Steve hissed to Clint, grabbing his bicep with a strong grip. Clint swatted his hand off of the silky fabric, complaining about the sweaty palm on his luxury brands.

    Wanda Maximoff was decidedly not what Steve had expected. He knew his expectations were a little high, but not by that much. He was just expecting some young, Ruth Bader Ginsberg-type, walking in in a modest pencil-skirt and binders already full of plans and printed-out powerpoints.

    But Wanda was instead in an all-black ensemble, a red leather jacket, and a slight scowl prepared for every other soul in the room. Ruth would never scowl, Steve thought scoldingly. She would humbly bestow a graceful smile to everyone. God, he loved that woman.

    “Back room, now.” Steve said, tugging Clint behind him as the younger man protested.

    Once the door was shut completely, Steve began his tirade. “She’s like, goth, Clint. Do you trust a goth girl to fix the swing set down on Maple Street? I didn’t think so, Clint. She’s probably off trying to summon baby demons and engaging in blood rituals- Jesus Christ Clint I can’t believe-“

    “Whoa man, it’s not goth it’s in-style.” Clint said, seemingly offended. He held a thin, perfectly groomed hand in front of them, ready to defend the only part of Steve’s argument that he actually cared about.

    “That’s in-style?” Steve asked, amazed. He looked up through the window, seeing Wanda watching them inquisitively. He quickly put a fake, cheery grin on his face as he waved at her. “Oh fiddlesticks Clint, she’s spotted us.”

    Clint shrugged. “Yeah, if you weren’t some judgmental old man, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

    “First off, I’m thirty-one, which Reader’s Digest has said is ‘the new twenty-one’ and you can’t possibly disagree with Reader’s Digest.” Steve shot back. “Also, to piggyback on your earlier comment, what’s in-style? Am I in-style?”

    Clint looked into his baby-blue eyes and grimaced, pity in his heart. “Oh honey, I can’t answer that. It’s like kicking a puppy.”

    “Guys.”

    A stern voice at the doorway saved Steve from the emotional slaughter that was about to happen, instead breaking the two men apart.

    Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorway, looking bored as ever as she examined her fingernails. She didn’t even shoot them a glance.

    “Wanda Maximoff has been sitting here for almost fifteen minutes waiting on her orientation. So, one of you two get out there, because I can only talk about this job for so long.” Natasha told them, before sauntering off back to her desk.

    Steve frowned. He had to have a game plan, an idea to start with before he just dove headfirst into this. First, she’d need a wardrobe change, something bright and pink and happy, and then she’d need to borrow the laminating kit Steve had before she got her own, so she could start on her collection of park renovation ideas, and then-

    “Hey kid, how’s college going?”

    Oh no. Clint was not following The Plan and he was going rogue and it would not go well, and soon the parks department would be ruined, Steve just knew it.

    “Pretty well, actually. Getting by in my classes with some decent grades, not smoking pot nearly as much as freshman year-“

    Steve choked, Clint laughed.

    “-and actually getting into a few art competitions this year. Been pretty great overall.”

    Art? That was interesting, Steve thought.

    “You’re an art major?” Steve piped up, making his way into the conversation.   

    “Yeah, I am. I have a few mural ideas for some of the parks, too.” Wanda responded, offering her new boss a smile. Steve grinned boldly.

    “Steve Rogers.” He said, giving her a firm handshake. “This is exciting! I knew you’d be a great fit.”

    Clint scoffed.

 

    ————————

 

   

    “So, you’ve already met Natasha and you know Clint.” Steve said, gesturing to the two as the sat at their desks. Their desks faced each other, gaudy decorations spilling from one onto the other. “This is their humble little workspace. They’re busy at working doing….. writing…. no, planning? Maybe sketching? What is it you two do again?”

    “Whatever the hell we want,” Clint offered sassily, not breaking eye contact with Steve as he shot Natasha a high-five. He missed, grazing her face instead.

    “Language.” Steve scolded. “And we’ll get back to your job description after Wanda’s orientation.”

    Ignoring their grumbles, Wanda followed behind Steve as he approached another cubicle, this one a lot smaller and more beat-up than the others. Behind it sat a disheveled man, busy at working with a large stack of papers. His shirt was untucked, his dark hair messy, and his glasses slipping off his nose.

    “This is Bruce.” Steve introduced, shrugging his shoulders a little. “He struggles at basically every task you give him but we still love him.”

    “Hey! Nice to meet you.” Bruce said cheerfully, almost tripping over himself to shake Wanda’s hand. His grip was a little sweaty and limp, but he seemed so nice, she thought. He missed his chair trying to sit down, landing firmly on the concrete floor instead.

    “I’m okay guys! The floor is much more ergonomic for my back problems.” Bruce responded cheerfully. Natasha and Clint didn’t even look up from their phones.

    Steve sighed and shook his head, leading Wanda into the largest office in the Parks and Recreation department. Inside it was very few fixtures, save for a simple, wooden desk, with a grumpy-looking man taking a nap behind it. He had dark, short hair, and had a line of drool dripping from his mouth.

    “Tony.” Steve said firmly, behind a controlled air of politeness. “We’ve got the new intern here, and it’s the middle of the workday.”

    Tony did nothing else save for snore loudly. Steve’s bright smile faltered slightly.

    “We’ll come back to him.” Steve said, smile twitching slightly as he led Wanda through the City Hall hallways. She passed a few business-men, almost all carrying fast-food containers. It was odd; she- and her whole college- was definitely not a stranger to fast food, but it just seemed so excessive in this town.

    “Does everyone in this town eat fast food for each meal?” Wanda asked, trying to crack a joke to alleviate Steve’s stress. Surely he wasn’t always stressed. No one could always be stressed.

    “Yes.” Steve said firmly, looking down at her with a very serious look in his eyes. He’d even stopped walking, the conversation that serious to him. “Don’t mention it, don’t try to fight it. I’ve tried so many times Wanda- I’ve endured more than you could ever know. These fast food places are ruthless. They’ll pick you apart and destroy everything you’ve ever loved. No, they’ll destroy everything you even thought about loving.”

    What the hell.

    Wanda tried to laugh, thinking it was some weird joke, but the look Steve shot her afterwards made her stop that very quickly.

    “Hey!” A quick, slightly high-pitched voice said, making Wanda jump a little. Did everyone here have to greet people aggressively?

    A wiry boy jumped out of nowhere, a bowl of cereal threatening to slosh in his hands.

    “Peter. What have I told you about eating cereal on the job?” Steve scolded. Peter shrugged, no shame in his actions, pushing a lock of sandy hair from his face.

    “I’ll have you know, I’m very careful, and Mr. Johnson said that cereal made his shoes smell fruity and I think that’s a compliment, so. Ha.” Peter shot back. He shoved another spoonful into his mouth, talking over his loud. crunching. “Who are you?”

    “This is Wanda, our new Parks Intern! She’s an art major and goth but in-style and it’s wonderful!” Steve said giddily.

    Wanda spoke up for herself, reaching out to shake Peter’s hand. “Hey.”

    “You seem like, really cool!” Peter said, his words too fast, and his face heated up. “Sorry, that’s kinda weird to say, you just seem neat and pretty and oh crap I think I got cereal on your hand I hope that’s okay?”

    Wanda blinked, taking a minute to register his fast speech. Luckily, her brother’s rapid-fire sentences prepared her well for raging adolescence.

    “You’re good, it’ll just smell fruity.” She offered back, and Peter grinned wildly, loving her response.

    “Yeah, so Peter’s the shoe-shine, but he’s not really a part of our department. He’s not really part of any department. He just kinda shows up.” Steve said, ushering Wanda along after she waved goodbye to the high-school boy. Steve wrinkled his nose, concerned. “Y’know, this has been really eye-opening. I don’t know what anyone here actually does.”

   

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries his best to keep his business and personal life deprecated, but his coworkers know him too damn well. They already have a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished an amazing book series- the Red Queen series by Victoria Aveyard- that completely DESTROYED me. 10/10, would recommend. This chapter is my way of ignoring the pain for the time being.

There are days that Steve Rogers wakes up and is at peace with the world. He makes himself coffee, dresses in the classiest salmon-colored polo he owns, and has a nice breakfast while watching the news. He hears the birds chirping outside, and the sun is shining. 

Then there are days where his coffee maker breaks, his salmon shirt is stained, and the birds outside are gone because his damn neighbor’s son has a new BB gun.

Today was one of the latter days, and the whole office can feel it.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Peter gasps when he walks into the entrance to City Hall, not bothering to hide his surprise.

“You can’t just ask people that, Peter.” Steve scolds, shaking his head. Kids these days.

“I mean, I mean respect- like, all the respect- but you look kinda bad today, sir.” Peter says, scratching his head.

“It’s been a rough morning.” Steve snaps.

Peter throws his hands up defensively. “Hey, if it makes you feel better, Mr. Rogers, I didn’t have time for cereal this morning.”

“Thank god.” Mutters the businessman seated at Peter’s shining station.

“You said you loved the fruity smell!” Peter yelled, horrified.

“I mean, c’mon kid, who likes having cereal poured into their shoes? It’s a no-brainer.”

“Can’t trust no one ‘round here, Mr. Rogers.” Peter grumbled. 

\---------------

 

“So, we need to fix the potholes around Main Street, then catch the rabid raccoon in the Pawnee Middle School’s playground, since we know pest control won’t-”

“Whoa, Racoon Randy? He’s like, famous.” Clint interrupted Steve, slamming his hands down on the table. “We can’t just catch him, like some common pest.”

“He has an instagram.” Natasha pointed out dryly, pulling up the profile on her phone. Wanda grabbed it, scrolling through with her mouth open. 

“Holy shit, he has like thousands of followers.” She commented.

“First off, language. Second off, that doesn’t mean he’s not a criminal, you guys.” Steve said firmly. “He scratched a sixth-grader’s leg last week.”

“That’s his way of saying hello, a little scratchey-scratchey.” Clint said, making a tiny clawing motion with his hand.

“He doesn’t know his own strength. It’s quite tragic.” Natasha said sympathetically.

Steve sighed loudly, dropping his head into his hands. He muttered through them. “We’re catching him, regardless. Maybe he can have a fancy cage at the pest control.” 

“Whoa, that’s actually a great idea.” Clint said. “He can get his own episode on MTV Cribs or something.”

“Little guy deserves it.” Natasha agreed, scrolling through the photos on the raccoon’s instagram. “I mean, look at this. Little guy’s got like three chicks and runs this park. He’s a badass.”

“Do I need to instate the swear jar, again?” Steve demanded, throwing his papers down on the conference table in front of them for a point. Last time they’d had it, they’d ended up just devoting most of their paychecks to it, Steve excluded. Steve had felt bad when Clint couldn’t pay rent that month.

There was an aggravated chorus ‘no’ around him, which seemed like reason enough for him to continue on the actual run down for the day. Before Wanda raised a hand, kindly trying to add in. 

“Why can’t pest control just do that?” She asked, out of the loop. Clint sighed.

“Because Peter and Drax work over there, and all they do is smoke weed and play Dungeons and Dragons.” He explained, sighing. Natasha mimed smoking a blunt before Steve elbowed her, mouth agape. 

“Peter? Shoeshine Peter?” Wanda inquired.

“Nah, Peter Quill.” Clint answered, then wrinkled his nose. “Y’know, we have too many damn Peters. It’s confusing. And unoriginal.”

“And then we need to plan the new Pawnee Park Summer Catalog.” Steve announced, trying to get his coworkers back on topic. He looked up to his coworkers giving him concerned looks, a few fidgeting in their seats, worried.

“Are you okay, big guy?” Clint asked nervously, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on Steve’s arm. He shrugged it off.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Steve asked, trying not to make a big deal.

“This is the summer catalog. It’s like, your version of getting a playboy magazine as a teenage kid. And you’re not even caring.” Clint pointed out.

“Eh, we do it every year.”

“What should the small, right-hand picture on page eleven be?” Natasha interrogated.

“Uh- oh gosh, I don’t know, you guys.” Steve admitted, his cheeks turning red.

“Holy fuck.” Clint whispered.

“LANGUAGE.” 

“What about the cover? What picture?” Wanda asked nervously, her words frenzied.

“I haven’t thought much about it-”

The three in front of him gasped, Clint feigning a heart attack, clutching at his chest.

“This is it. Steve has really lost the will to live.” Natasha whispered to herself.

“So how are you going out? Firing squad, bald eagle giving birth nearby, America the Beautiful in the background?” Clint asked, pretending to wipe away a tear. “You’ve lost all will to live.”

“Oh, shut up.” Steve scoffed. “You’re all too over dramatic.”

“Nope, nope. This is not okay.” Natasha said. She’d already stood up, pacing around the table. “I never thought it would come to this. Hell, I thought we’d all be dead before this happened.”

“Really, Steve, are you alright? I’ve been here a week and I still know this isn’t like you at all.” Wanda said, concerned, but not as over dramatic as her two coworkers.

“Guys.” Steve sighed. “Honestly, I’m fine. Just a bad morning.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. This is the end game. We’re all done for.” Clint scoffed.

Steve threw his hands up, pushing himself back from his chair. “I’m done with this. We’ve got stuff to do today, not just worry about me being a little unprepared. Wanda, you’re in charge of pictures and design for the catalog. Bruce- wherever he is, someone tell him- is in charge of the raccoon. I’ll tell Tony to work on the potholes.”

After Steve left, Natasha put a hand on Clint’s shoulder, making him stop his anxious leg bobbing. 

“In order to ward off the impending apocalypse, I have a plan.” Natasha said, beginning to dial a number on her phone.

 

\---------------------

 

“Bucky Barnes, you beautiful, colorful sunfish of Indiana.” Steve said happily, gobbling down the sandwich his best friend had brought him.

“Sunfish? Aren’t those the weird flat fish in the ocean?” Bucky asked, although he didn’t seem surprised one bit at the metaphor, simply taking a bit of his own sandwich.

“Yes, but it is large, and therefore has more surface from which to give and receive love.” Steve countered, as if it all made sense.

“I think it’s best you kept those, um, great compliments to yourself.” Bucky advised. “Not that I don’t love them.”

“I just can’t believe you took your break from work to come bring me lunch. I never thought friendship could be this beautiful.” Steve said, beginning to tear up a little.

“Hey, big guy, it’s really not a big deal? Don’t cry on me.”

“But, the hospital is probably failing without you there. I’d bet five people have already died without you there.” Steve said. “You sacrifice so much for me.”

“Steve, I’m a nurse. I tell you that every time I see you.” Bucky sighed. “They can run just fine without me, on my scheduled lunch break.”

“But not without the beautiful sunfish that is Bucky Barnes-”

“Okay, yeah, got it Steve, I’m pretty awesome. Now what’s going on with you?” Bucky countered, turning the tables on his friend. Steve sighed loudly.

“Just a rough morning. Got me a little under, y’know.” Steve said. He quickly shrugged it off, finishing off his second sandwich. Bucky didn’t let it slide, even as he tried to brush the topic off.

“I know it’s more than that, bud.” Bucky said. An idea popped into his head. “When’s the last time you really dated someone, Steve?”

Steve blushed, shrugging his shoulders. “Oh, y’know, not that long ago. Just a little bit. Of course.”

“Steve….”

“Okay, it’s been six years.”

“Oh, wow.” Was all Bucky could say. “What about had someone over, just for a night?”

“Like, a sleepover?”

“But, doing more than sleeping.”

“Oh God.” Steve said, choking on his sandwich. After a significant bit of coughing, be gave Bucky a horrified expression. “Just for a night? That sounds awful! I wouldn’t even know them!”

“It’s not a terrible idea, big guy. No commitment. Just gotta make sure both parties know that.” Bucky defended himself, shrugging as if it were simple as that. Steve wasn’t sold.

“That’s just weird. I couldn’t do it.”

“You need to get laid, buddy.” Bucky said, a big grin on his face. He wiped his hands on his navy scrubs as he stood, tugging his shoulder-length hair into a bun as he watched his best friend squirm. It was almost cute, how uncomfortable Steve was the notion. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Clint and Nat.” Bucky promised, giving Steve a wink as the blond man donned a horrified expression, barely able to comprehend how badly it would go if the news was spread. 

“I still don’t buy it, Buck. It’s just a gross idea-” Steve trailed off, as Bucky had stopped walking out of the courtyard. Instead, he was preoccupied.

“Hey.” A higher voice said.

“Hey.” Bucky said back, and Steve recognized that voice. It was Bucky’s girl voice, except Steve was not alright with who it was directed at.

Wanda and Bucky were both looking at each other with little doe eyes, both donning a stupid grin, and Steve was in action because this was Not Okay.

“HELLO!” Peter added in, standing a little behind Wanda, trying to interject himself into the situation. Namely, in between her and Bucky, who Steve had just grabbed by the arm.

“Hey, I forgot something else we had to talk about.” Steve said quickly, a nervous smile on his face as he dragged Bucky beside him. Bucky was still looking behind them, waving bye to Wanda with that dumb grin still on his face.

“Oh my god.” Steve said as soon as they were in private, his chest heaving. “Was that what I thought it was?”

“What?” Bucky asked, genuinely confused. 

“That was the fairytale meeting. Oh my god.” Steve said, fanning himself as he tried to find a trashcan to throw up into. “It’s like, in fairytales, where the prince meets his true love for the first time, except in this case it’s you and Wanda, and I love her and you but only separately. You’re too perfect Bucky, and I already know you’re going to marry Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s daughter-”

“Wanda.” Bucky said, smiling. “That’s a nice name.”

“No it’s not, it’s a gross name!” Steve yelled. “It’s a satanic name!”

“That’s kind of mean Steve, no matter who you want me to end up with.” Bucky pointed out. Steve pouted, seeing his point, but only slightly. He crossed his arms across his chest.

“Okay, but she’s goth.” Steve pointed out.

“No, she’s not?” Bucky said, confused. “Steve, that’s just in style.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, and I’m honestly really concerned now. Am I out of style, Bucky? You would tell me, wouldn’t you?” 

“You’ve got nice eyes, Steve.” 

“Oh my god.” Steve groaned. “I’m out of style, aren’t I? I feel like I’ve been asleep for like, seventy years or something, and I’ve woke up and everyone is cool except for me oh god-”

Bucky grabbed the anxious man’s shoulders, shaking him a little. 

“Listen, it’s gonna be okay, Steve.” Bucky soothed him. “You’ve just gotta get laid, and then you’ll get out of this weird funk. And you’ll also realize that I’m not marrying Reagan Ginsberg’s daughter-”

“Bucky, it’s Ruth. You know this.”

 

\----------------------- 

 

Wanda was struggling desperately with the summer catalog job.

She’d sat for hours trying to figure out ideas for pictures, but her mind was blank. Well, Clint had also turned on MTV’s Cribs, in honor of Racoon Randy’s eventual residence, and she couldn’t  _ not  _ honor Randy. He was sacred.

And now, at her wit’s end, she found herself looking into the face of true evil, of true defeat. She hated herself for it; she wondered if she could ever look her family in the eyes after what she was about to do.

“Hey, Bruce. Someone said you did a little art and I was wondering if you could help me with some ideas for the catalog?”

The man almost fell out of his chair scrambling up, a bright smile on his loopy features.

“Well, gosh! I’d love to, Wanda!” He said, grabbing tools as he went along. Wanda said a prayer silently. “I guess I’ll just have to do the racoon job tonight once I get off work, but that’s okay! I love overtime!”

“And just so you know, most people call me Bryce here. I think it’s their way of showing affection!” Bruce said happily. 

“This is strictly business, Bruce.” Wanda said sternly.

“Of course.” He said, only slightly dejected.

She had made her fate, signed and sealed.

 

\---------------------

 

“Tony, I’ve got a job for you.” Steve said, knocking on the door to his office even as she entered. She found him tinkering with a tiny clock, not even remotely related to his real duties.

“Jobs are useless, just like the government.” Tony said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Steve sighed loudly.

“Are we really gonna have this conversation, this early in the morning?”

Tony dropped his tools, shocked. He gave him the most concerned look he could muster- which was hardly different than his everyday, resting bitch face.

“Kid, are you alright?” Tony asked, his eyebrows knit together. “It’s one in the afternoon.”

“Oh, god. I’ve just been stressed, is all.” Steve said, running a hand over his face, already feeling a little bit of stubble he missed this morning.

“Oh. I know what this is.” Tony said, screwing his features up. “You need to get laid.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t like that idea that much.”

Steve groaned, throwing down the pile of papers in front of his boss. “Here’s the info for the potholes. Thanks for the advice.”

Steve almost ran from the room, eager to get out of the situation. But Tony wasn’t going to pursue that conversation, ever. In fact, he considered it to be one of the most disgustingly heartfelt conversations he’d had all year.

“I give such damn good advice.” Tony said to an empty room as he continued tinkering with his clock.

 


End file.
